


How did I get here?

by fluffybookfaerie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:48:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffybookfaerie/pseuds/fluffybookfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My coda for 9x03, I'm No Angel</p>
            </blockquote>





	How did I get here?

The repair shop had always been foreign to Dean, even after all the time he spent working there when he was playing house with Lisa. So now, four years after he’d left it, going back didn’t feel like coming home. It felt like remembering something out of a dream.

Dean caught the eye of the cashier, a surly guy who must’ve been hired at some point in the last four years because Dean didn’t recognize him.

"Hey, is, uh, Clarence here?" Dean asked him, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Yeah," the cashier grunted, eyeing Dean doubtfully.

Dean flashed him his best cheesy, ‘I get what I want’ faux-FBI grin. “Do you think you could get him for me?”

The man eyed Dean for another moment, then shrugged and left.

It still felt like a dream, one he wanted desperately to wake up from. There had been so many times over the years when he’d lain awake at night, worried sick because Cas wasn’t answering his prayers, and god only knew whether he was on heaven, earth, or somewhere worse. And now, he knew where Cas was, and Cas was willing to stay with them, but Dean had done the unthinkable and sent him away. He’d set him up with his old job and a place to live, but the place to live was not with him and Sam, where he belonged.

Cas came out sans cashier, dressed in a mechanic’s blue jumpsuit, face smudged with engine grease. Seeing him, even after the way they’d parted, filled Dean with warmth. But when Cas’s eyes lit on Dean, his features contorted in a way that made Dean’s heart clench. But what could Dean expect, that Cas would be happy to see him? After he, one of Cas’s only friends, had tossed him out?

"Is Sam alright?" Cas asked immediately, and Dean had to close his eyes and take a deep, relieved breath, because of course that’s what Cas would assume.

"Nah, Sam, he’s—" he’s possessed by a guy I don’t know if I trust anymore. He’s supposed to be on the mend but it’s not working fast enough. He should be confused by all the things that aren’t adding up but he’s not, because a dick angel is messing with his head. He should be in the know but I keep having to lie to him, even about coming here today. “He’s fine.”

“Oh.” Cas pondered this, and then his features softened. “It’s good to see you, Dean.”

If Dean hadn’t already felt like shit, that would have done the trick.

“I’m not here to bring you back with me,” he warned. 

Cas hunched his shoulders, but he nodded, accepting this. “I understand. Then why are you here, Dean?”

None of the usual answers applied here. Sam wasn’t in trouble. Dean wasn’t in trouble. Cas wasn’t in immediate danger. They weren’t hunting anything. Because I wanted to see you, he thought. But he couldn’t get the guy’s hopes up about coming home to them when he wasn’t sure when or if that could happen.  
Fuck it. “To see if you want to get a beer.”

Cas responded immediately and emphatically. “Yes.”

There was a bar nearby where Dean used to go with some of the other guys after work. Cas knew it too, so they met there when his shift was over. It was a popular happy hour destination, so they couldn’t get a seat at the bar, and instead had to settle for a booth.

“So how’re you settling in to human life?” Dean asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“I like the job,” Cas said matter-of-factly. “I’m very good at it. I’ve always had a good understanding of the way things work. And people are very appreciative when I fix their cars.”

Dean was suddenly struck by the image of a sweaty, grease-stained Cas stripped down to a wife-beater and jeans, muscles working as he tightened something with a wrench. “Yeah, I’ll bet they are,” he muttered.

“And your old neighbors have been very hospitable. They’re allowing me to pay reduced rent in exchange for repairing things around the house. And they provide me with food. It’s nice not to be hungry anymore. I’m very grateful to them.”

“I’m—that’s really good, Cas,” Dean said, though his voice may have cracked a bit.

“How are you doing?” Cas asked, taking a sip of his own beer. “And Sam?”

“I’m—” lonely, because I don’t have anyone to confide in. Missing you. Already dreading going back to the bunker with Ezekiel and my oblivious brother. “We’re great. Peachy.”

Dean felt the weight of Cas’s gaze on his face as Cas studied him closely. “If I’ve done anything to make you believe you can’t trust me—”

Dean reach forward and gripped Cas’s forearm tightly. “Don’t ever think that,” he growled. “Right now—god—right now I trust you more than I trust Sam. And I will let you in, I promise. When I’m ready, you’ll be the first to know.” 

Hesitantly, Cas put his hand over Dean’s on his forearm. “Whatever it is that’s upsetting you, Dean, I hope it gets resolved.”

Dean shook his head. “Just—don’t worry about that right now, okay? Can we just—sit here, and talk about nothing for a while?”

Cas squinted at him. “I don’t understand. How do you talk about nothing?”

Dean cracked a grin. God he’d missed Cas. 

They sat there for a while, aimlessly talking, and for a while, the pleasure of being with his friend made him forget everything else.


End file.
